Burning Lights and Dusty Shades
by fannynugget
Summary: Kurt has a fascination with Blaine Andersons' eyes. But he doesn't want the world to see them. He likes the mystery in them. He sees the world, his life, even, in them. But apparently so does Blaine Andersons' boyfriend.


His fingers are sore from the little pricks in them – _not _a euphemism, unfortunately – and his eyes are stinging from the one light that sits by him as a camping torch. The room, despite the torch, is dark and hopeless, but he _needs_ to get this model ready for the photo shoot in the next five minutes otherwise hell will break lose. No, really. That's no overreaction.

The power cut happened about an hour ago, and honestly, it was somewhat of a Godsend. Kurt struggles to work with this model. He struggles to be alone with him and dress him and _touch _him and his eyes, _my God his eyes!_

The small light isn't able to shine bright enough to bring out the hazel swirl in Blaine Andersons eyes, and yes, Kurt's disappointed, but he's fully transformed into talk-to-me-and-I-will-feel-no-remorse-from-cutting-all-your-hair-off-while-you-sleep, so he isn't able to get too wrapped up in the male in front of him.

He's just about finished shortening the length of the model's left leg when he hears Blaine speak and it takes all Kurt has not to lay a mess on the floor from the pure sultry tone of one, Blaine Anderson's voice.

"The dark and the silence is almost sending me to sleep." There's a quiet chuckle there and if anything, Kurt assumes it's a nervous laugh, which sets him on edge a little. "Talk to me? Or… Or sing! Can you sing?"

Kurt's tempted, but he's finished now so he stands and takes the torch up with him. They're close, far too close for Kurt to feel calm, but he can't pull himself away, he can't bring himself to take a simple step back. The thing that does part them is Kurt shining the light in Blaine's face and his deliciously coloured eyes screw up and he stumbles backwards away from the light.

"Sorry!" Kurt says quickly and reaches for him, the light still shining on him. He catches the models hand and Blaine grips onto him before laughing and shaking his head. "It's okay," Blaine says as he settles himself, his fingers still wrapped around Kurt's, and they're both trying not to think much of it. "I just wish the power would come back on, I can barely see anything."

At that moment, Kurt only knows the door is opening because of the creaking and the sound of several heavy footsteps. "Are you ready, Anderson?" The photographer asks and Kurt rolls his eyes because he _hates_ this woman, but _must _hire her because her talent is extraordinary, her mind works in ways Kurt just can't understand, her creations are timeless. Blaine makes his way to the door, only letting go of Kurt's fingers when they're out of reach and Kurt's breath hitches at the loss, but he quickly follows and is led into a room where light is not an issue.

There are several torches and professional lights positioned around a large white screen and Kurt can see Blaine is squinting again while standing in the middle of it, which is resulting in the person touching up his makeup to scowl at him.

For three hours Kurt stood and watched Blaine make everyone in the room swoon – make _the whole of America swoon _– and only intercepted the continuous flow of photographs being taken when something on Blaine's suit wasn't quite right and didn't fall the way Kurt wanted it to.

By four hours, the suit was hung back up and Blaine was dressed in simple jeans and an old Dalton hoodie and the power was back on. Kurt was picking out which photographs he liked of Blaine and he took this time to study him in detail; his eyes mainly, although there was no ignoring the muscles in his shoulders or the way his Adams apple was thick in his throat. His eyes, though, god his eyes. Kurt didn't want to be selfish but there was too much depth in those eyes for him to even consider sharing.

Blaine, to the modelling world, is a mystery. He's an enigma. He doesn't attend award shows, he doesn't do runways and he certainly doesn't show off other peoples clothes. And that's all because Kurt hid his eyes. Never once has he shown who Blaine Anderson really is. He's kept him hidden, for his own pleasure and business. It's done well for his advertisement, actually. Because everyone was so curious as to why he took this angle.

Of course, he'd never admit the truth. Definitely not to Blaine and only just recently to himself. But it would never matter anyway because Kurt is his employer and the last thing he needs is to make things awkward at his work place.

He only looks away from Blaine's pictures – with much reluctance – when he hears a knock on his door and Blaine's head pops around it cautiously.

"I just came to say bye." The young model says, the gel all washed out of his hair and his curls going completely wide.

"Oh, of course. Thank you, Blaine. It's always a pleasure to do a shoot with you." Very professional, if Kurt does say so himself.

"Yeah, I had a good time." Blaine's smile is genuine and Kurt is about one second away from being that mess on the floor he almost was earlier. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something else too." He's stepping in the room now and Kurt raising his brow while sitting back in his chair, his legs crossing which makes his jeans pull across his thighs even more.

"I have this gig in some seedy bar later. And I know it's probably not your thing but we never hang, you know? I know we're not supposed to because you're my boss an' all, but I mean, we're friends, right? I think? Am I making a total ass of myself? I'm being an asshole, aren't I? I'll, I'll stop and go now. Thank you, Kur-"

"Blaine." Kurt said with an adorable giggle and shook his head. "You're babbling."

"Oh… Yeah… I do that when I get nervous…"

"Nervous?" Kurt's trying not to smirk now and he quickly scribbles on a piece of paper before sliding it across his desk. "This is my number and my address. Text me and then you can pick me up before the gig, okay?"

Blaine is practically beaming as he nods and grabs the paper. "Great! I'll text you."

"Wait!" Kurt says before Blaine can step out of the door. "When you say _seedy bar_, I'm not going to, like, catch an STD from sitting on one of the stools or something, am I? Because I have standards, Blaine. And I'd rather not have to carry around disinfectant with me all night."

Blaine simply laughs and shakes his head. "No. At least, I don't think that's ever happens. Don't worry, it's not _too _bad. I'll see you later, Kurt."

With that, he was gone, leaving Kurt to threat over what the hell he was going to wear tonight.


End file.
